


Garden of Hell

by Bloody_Vixen



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Breeding, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, F/M, Making Up Bible Stories, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2019-12-26 21:42:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18290804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloody_Vixen/pseuds/Bloody_Vixen
Summary: An unfortunate reader is tricked by an in heat Papa III. The tales always end after the sex. But what about after? How could you cope with finding out that Satan is real and that you're now in the Garden of Hell?





	1. The Voice Is a Liar

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. This fic is basically me exercising my writing butt and is therefore a bit more loose and fairly all over the place. I will update the tags as I go along. Reader is sort of loopy but I'm aiming for someone whose mindset went from; WTF - drugged - to what the fuck drugged. Heed the tags please.
> 
> Update: Some of the chapters has been edited to add relevant content and also fix some spelling and grammatical issues. The oldest chapters have gone through this and may appear differently than the last time you have read it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations via footnotes. May have some mistakes because this is the first time I'm using AO3's style footnotes.

It was only for a second.

You took your eyes off for one second.

One moment you were looking a peculiarly beautiful flower as your colleague eyed another by your side.

“Hey, I think this flower would be great for our poster, don’t you –”

You turn and you’re lost.

You’re not exaggerating. You came into this forest with a group and had kept to the open path and now…

The path’s gone and so are your friends. The trees, once green and shady, now loomed tall and dark over you. The sun was ominous orange and suddenly you realized that you’re…alone.

“..g-guys this isn’t funny.” You cried out, ignoring the tremble in your voice. “GUYS!”

You cried out, their names, at first joking but steadily angrier and angrier. It was made worst when you tried your phone only to find the line had gone dead. You nearly threw it to the ground – because what the shit? The line was perfect a few minutes ago and now it’s dead?

Your first instinct was to walk off and find back your path – you’d deal with the impossibility of everyone just fucking vanished later after the urge to sue every single fucker in a ten kilometre radius died down – but the reader in you – the one who read about stories of people getting lost, knew that it’s a safer bet to stay.

You hoped that this was simple mistake – a fugue or something rational – scientific – _grounded –_ that you went from hiking to completely lost in a blink of an eye

You steadily ignored the other reasoning – the one that sounded like your old grandpa – talking about Orang Halus and Orang Bunians, who loved absconding human beings into their realm. The tales of men and women who broke an unspoken rule and ended up lost for what seemed like hours only to find out that weeks or years had passed in real time.

You ignored that – because that’s impossible and for one thing you’re not in Malaysia or Indonesia – you’re in fucking Sweden – land of white people. That shit does not happen in any European country.

 _“Well, what about fairies?”_ The stupidly irrational voice nagged back.

“Does not exist. NONE OF THAT SHIT EXIST.” You muttered to yourself as you used your phone as a flashlight. Oh and how did it went from 10am in the morning to fucking dusk? You had the body of an office worker – no fucking way did the time flew past _that_ quickly and you’re still…

…well, not _bushed._ Nor were you thirsty…or hungry.

Well, you did had a big breakfast and you drank a few minutes – yes _minutes, the sky and your watch is fucking liar –_ ago. That’s why you feel fine, lost, _angry_ but fine. And you will be finer once you’re found and regale to everyone that this prank – _it’s a prank_ \- was about as funny as root canal.

You spot a decently non mossy rock next to plants you had wanted to draw. It felt a bit cool as you sat down but you sucked it up. You’re sure it’s not going to be long.

As the sun died down and you hook your phone to your power bank – you reminded yourself that. At least you came during summer – still chilly compared to home but still…warm enough to survive the night. You knew your best chance of being found was to stay put. You had done this before, years ago when you were but a teenager and it was called the bravery test.

It will be boring as hell but better bored than lost and...well…

At least this time you don’t have to worry about tigers.

You sighed…and a cloud of smoke wafted out of your mouth.

You froze, blinking again because… _WHAT._

“What?” you said loudly and to your horror your breath plumed and faded before your eyes. You inhaled…and exhaled, another cloud. You shot up to your feet.

THIS WAS FUCKING JUNE.

The last you checked it was 16 degrees Celsius – nowhere near cold enough to create fucking clouds from your mouth.

As your brain tried to un-boggle this you realized that it’s suddenly freezing – your body, wearing jeans, shirts and jacket started to shiver.

You don’t need to read to know that this was bad – very, very fucking bad. Impossible but you shove it aside – you need warmth – you need fucking fire or this prank would end up with the word deadly before you could even blink.

You turn around, looking for wood to start kindling. You knew you had to insulate your body from the ground, you have some rocks that you could use to start the kindling. You latched your phone with its light in front of you. You were warned not to pluck the flowers and shit but this was an emergency. You start snapping branches and dried leaves left and right, as the light swayed.

You were so focused it took you a while to realized that someone was calling out.

“Hey!”

The voice sounded loud as though the person was shouting beside your ear. You jumped nearly dropping your collection.

Could it be?

“HEY!” there it was again, a voice, someone crying out.

The search party.

You dropped the branches to your feet, holding your phone out as you try to find them.

“H - hey! I’m here! HEY! IT’S ME!” you cried out.

There was another pause and for a moment you feared that they might not have heard you when suddenly someone’s torchlight flickered just a few yards from you. You nearly cried with relief when the party cried out again.

“HERE!” the man said.

“YEAH, I’M COMING!”

You started to run towards the light, ignoring that you were tripping roots and rocks. Your feet cried out but tough titties, you’d soak them later.

“Over here!”

I KNOW, PLEASE STAY WHERE YOU ARE! I’M – ”

To your horror the light flickered and suddenly moved further away.

“…Here.” The man called out, his voice weakening.

“Wait, STOP! I CAN’T –”

“Here.”

Was it just you or was the light moving further away from you?

You don’t think, you had to chase after it, the air seemed to freeze harder and harder as you ran after that voice.

It was like a switch – the rational you – even the child you – was screaming for you to stop, to stop following that voice but your instincts yelled to follow.

Chase it down, find that voice.

There was a why but your instincts smothered them.

It’s very important to find him. Find that voice.

Find him. _Find him. **Find him.**_

**_Find him_ **

**_Or die._ **

And so you must.

The light danced in front of you and the voice, so strong turned melodic, as if it knew.

“Here,” it crooned. “ _Here.”_

The forest turned thicker, trunks twisted and branches wove between them, as though they were holding hands together. The air was slightly warmer now but….denser and it was as if you could practically touch it. Soon you started to stumble, your muscles burning from the strain as you collapse near a tree, gasping and coughing as your body screamed for air.

Your eyes began to tear from the effort but it refused to stay away from the flickering light. You wanted to break down, cry because it hurts and you’re fucking tired and why won’t the light just _stay?_

“Close, so close. Here.” The voice cried out and you wanted to scream for it to stop, you just want him to stop _running_.

As if sensing your frustrations, the voice called out, soft, pleading, “You’re close, cara mia, 1 please.”

The voice sounded so sad, so… _broken._ Something in you began to weep, demanding that you seek him out, _help him, sooth him._

You ignored the one screaming go back. _Go back_.

With a grunt you pushed yourself off the trunk and walked towards the light, it twinkled joyously and your heart felt _lightened._

I’m coming. I’m coming, you wanted to say but you wanted to save your energy. The light seemed to know that you’re exhausted and moved slowly. You forced your feet to move, making sure not to stumble and or trip when suddenly the floor began to become less…branchy and flatter, stonier.

Soon the crunches of wood faded to your feet slapping against cobblestones and the light flickered and faded. You did not panic, however, as suddenly the soft glows of torchlights came to being and you had to stop and blink as you realized that you were no longer in a forest.

You were in a dungeon.

Every part of you stopped and suddenly, the rational voice, the one who had screamed itself hoarse slapped you in the face.

“Wh-what?” you muttered, disbelieving because how the fuck? But there you were. The stone walls that glistened against the torchlights, the bars and…the scent of blood, human blood, and it dawned upon you that you had made a mistake.

The hysterical you was screaming that you’re in a fucking horror movie and it would be great that you should fucking _run_.

And you would have when you hear a child crying out.

“Help! Please help!” the voice sounded so young, so terrified and you could not help but call out too.

“W-who?”

“Please help me! They locked me up and I’m scared!” he whimpered and your heart clenched as you hear him tremble. Alarm bells were ringing in your mind but fuck it – you’d have to be a complete asshole to ignore a child in danger.

You scan around the cells but they were all empty, “Where are you?”

“Here! The door down here!” and you hear someone thumping against wood as you turn your lights towards the sound.

You saw it, a large wooden door, barred by wood slates.

Another bang and you see the knob – a round metal ring –shake, “Here! Please hurry!”

You ran down towards it and without further ado moved the wood barring the door, letting it fall onto the floor; but as you turned the knob, the door held fast – locked.

“Shit!”

“The key’s on the wall! Please hurry!”

Your eyes snapped towards the sides of the door and you see it, an old rusty key, large as your palm. You grab it, your heart pumping hard as you slot the key and turned.

“Yes, that’s it, oh thank you, thank you! Please let me out!” the kid cried and you swung the door open.

The door creaked then slammed loudly against the wall as you find yourself facing a pitch black room.

You froze, breathing heavily as your mind tried to grasp what you’re seeing, “K-kid?”

A child sobs but it was a man who laughed.

“Oh, you’re so sweet and nice,” you hear the child’s voice grow deeper, “And so, so _stupid_.”

_Run._

Your body began to turn but arms, long and power grabbed you as you screamed. Someone heaved as you kicked and writhed against the man’s hold.

“No, let me go! LET ME GO!”

You hear him swore before he whirled and shoved you onto the floor. You scrambled to get on your feet but pain explodes in your belly as he kicks you down. Tears began forming in your eyes as you hear the door slam shut.

Suddenly, there was light.

Your eyes winces from the sudden brightness, your hands still clutching your stomach as you sobbed into your chest.

Fingers, long and clawed grabbed your hair, forcing you to stand as you screamed and tried to free yourself.

The man backhands you before digging his hand into your cheeks.

You gasped from the pain and saw…

…a man’s face leering back at you. He was wearing a skull paint which smeared haphazardly all over his skin, the worst part were his eyes, one green and another white as snow. And they were looking at you, blown wide with lust.

Chills ran down your spine as you realized that he was so close, his body nude as day pressed against you and…

No.

“NO. Please don’t, NO!” you exclaimed as you fight against his hold, the man grimaced, teeth clenched as you tried to kick and slap him away. But his hold was iron strong.

 _“Per Dio, non ti muovere!”_ 2 He swore but you continued to fight, fingers clawing into his wrists because you don’t want this – you don’t want this.

Then, he crushed his lips against yours.

Your body went stock still as he wrapped one arm around your waist and another held your head as his mouth violated yours. His tongue burned inside your mouth – pushing deeper past your teeth, like a blood tasting worm, eager to devour your insides.

You tried to push him away, your hands pressed against his shoulders but he held fast. Your mind was screaming as he tilted your head, his shoved deeper into you that you didn’t think was possible; his hips grinding into yours as he does so.

Your lungs burned as he continued and you started to feel faint when finally he pulled away, a string of saliva trailed between you two.

 _“Hai un sapore meraviglioso...”_ 3 he groaned, rubbing his thumb against your lower lip. You started crying, because this was not happening – it could not be happening.

“Please, no, please, I don’t want –“ you stammered, sobbing and shaking as your hands tried futilely to push him away.

It could have been your imagination but you saw his eyes twitch with guilt, “Neither do I…” he murmured, eyes closed and you feel his hold on you loosened slightly.

You latched onto that guilt like it was your lifesaver, “Then please, let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone, _please_.” And you wouldn’t, Jesus fucking Christ, you wouldn’t. Silence came and for a moment you thought he would do it, would let you go when his eyes, snapped open and they were hard. 

“But it’s not what we want. It’s what I _need_.” Your heart chilled from the sound of his voice, your body stiffened from the realization. His hand, contrasting his action, gently caressed your cheek as he make another move to kiss you.

You kneed him – hard.

The man howled as he buckled down, but you don’t wait – when he loosened you, he gave you enough space for it and you doubt you would get that chance again.

You rushed towards the door, fingers barely graze the knob when he grabbed you by the arm and flung you across the room and onto what felt like a bed. Your body bounced like a rag-doll before he crawled above you, pinning you down, his expression furious.

“Oh, _cara mia, puttana_. 4 I understand why you did it, I do but that fucking hurt.”

You spat at him.

“Fuck you, you asshole!”

Surprise played over his face before he laughed, deep and loud. You squirm underneath him, trying to find purchase but he pins you down, his face leering over yours, his hair tickling your skin as he spoke:

“Oh, I will and you, _cara mia_ 1 will be begging for me soon.”

You spat and swore as you thrashed beneath him. The man scowled before he pinned both your arm above you with one hand. He held you firmly as he grabbed the covers and ripped long strips from them. In deft motions he tied your wrists to the bed poles. You pulled but like his hands, they were firm and did not budge or loosened. The man's lips continued to sneer at your attempts and something, something within you  _snapped._

You started screaming.

Something scared howled from your mouth as the realization that you’re trapped, reverberates through your body, you started crying and heaving because this can’t be happening, this shouldn’t be happening. But as the skull-faced man loomed above you, his face cold, you could not help but cry again. You had never lost your mind like this before, your fingers clenching as tears streamed hotly down your cheeks, your heart thundering in your chest and all you could hear was that inhuman howl coming from your throat. 

You don’t hear his hushes, or the feel or his fingers gently wiping away your tears when cool glass touched your lips.

Startled, you tried to clamp your mouth shut but he gripped your cheeks, forcing your jaw open and something warm and spicy slid down your throat.

You coughed and spluttered as it burned your mouth.

“There, there. _Mandate giù, cara mia_.” 5

You had no idea what the fuck he’s saying as you grit your teeth, fury coursing through your veins when…

Your body woke up.

There were no other words to describe it. Your brain clicked and suddenly your fear, your fury melted away as everything inside you, from your heart to your flesh… _burned._

You tasted the saltiness of your tears, the way the cloth dug into your wrists, the smell of his breath – heady, irony and oh so fucking delicious – and how your groin started to ache. A low moan escaped your lips as everything, everywhere _hungered._

The man – how did you fear him? – leaned closer, his nose traced your cheeks as you whined and whimpered.

He smelled so good and you want him – _need him._

And he? Needs you. His fingers loosened from your cheeks, trailing  _agonizingly_ slowly down your neck. Both of you were breathing heavily, you watch his eyes follow his fingers, as it brushed your down to your sternum and then just above you heaving breasts. Suddenly, you're very much aware of just how much clothes there was between you and him and you whined. Eyes, green and white snapped up at the noise you make. 

He smiled, eyes heavy as he leaned forward, so close your noses touched and you try to reach up to devour him but to your despair he leaned to your side, to your right ear and you rolled your eyes as he gave your lobe a soft, teasing nip.

“Yes?” he whispered softly.

A beat.

“Yes.”

He tore your clothes to shreds.

There was no warning; no gentleness as he unwrapped your body. His gold talons glimmered as his face morphed into something bestial. You saw red flesh swimming all over his skin – and the quietened rational part of you wondered what the fuck is this man is he even human – when he thrusted into you.

You screamed, back arched at the intrusion but he didn’t stop, gripping your hips and slamming into you with such force the bed shook.

You burned from the lack of lubricant. You were turned on, yes, but still not wet enough. Your fingers dug into your palm, wanting him to slow down, wanting him to be gentle but the other part of you demanded he fucked you faster, harder.

“F-fuc-FUCK!” you cried out and he laughed, grumbled and deep and wrong as he closed his eyes and pistoned deep into you. He groaned and growled as his hips slammed into yours, so eager that he lifted your hips above the bed, his cock now crashing against that spot inside your walls.

You came. Stars danced in front of your eyes as your cunt clamped and shuddered. Still he does not stop. You came again, crying and sobbing as he drove your body into the next and the next. You hear him moan and then he came, warmth flooding your insides. You gasped, trying to breathe as you watch him cum and then…

He lifted your legs and without pausing fucked you again.

“W-wha?” Your brain, still projecting on Mars, was alarmed that he didn’t stop. He didn’t even soften but was still rock hard and still thrusting hard and deep, even as your body – though still turned on – begged him to stop, for more, to please stop but please fuck you harder, faster, yes, yes, yes.

You wanted to say something but your body began to twist and churned and you came again.

He leaned forward, face flushed underneath the makeup, and he kissed your lips, muffling your cries as he hit your spot and your body shuddered from pleasure.

Time became meaningless. At some point he came again and unbound your wrists. He’d flip you onto your stomach, on your back, never stopping never pausing. Your cunt ached and at times the pleasure turned to pain and you whimpered. But he’d brush your tears and kissed you again and again until all you could recall was the slickness between you and how you’re so close, you could hear his heart beating.

Soon, however, your body became worn and tired, even though lust still coursed through it. As though sensing it, the man, the monster bent forward and started to whisper…:

 _“Siamo con clavi…con dio…siamo  con Il nostro dio scuro…_ ” 6

You let the word wash over you, like a prayer before darkness, finally, claims you.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. "My dear." ^
> 
> 2\. "For fuck's sake, stop moving!" ^
> 
> 3\. "You taste so good." ^
> 
> 4\. "...my dear, whore." ^
> 
> 5\. "Drink it down, my dear." ^
> 
> 6\. _"We are with nails...we are with God...we are with our dark God..."_^
> 
> WOOO I had to go back and edit this because I was like - OOOH LOOK AT THESE.


	2. Fight, Flight and Freeze

You woke with a start.

The instincts that had been numbed, surged awake, alerted by the fact that every single part of you _hurts._

At first you didn’t recognize the pain, so confused you were by the rock ceiling and the smell of sex and decay that it took you a while to note the ache between your legs and then the pain that sang everywhere.

Frozen, you could only let out a soft whine when something heavy moved across your chest. An arm – a man’s arm rolled away from your chest and the man ( _monster **monster** monster_) groaned tiredly. You’re stayed still, even as your memories flooded back. Your stomach recoiled in horror – not only of what had happened but at the fact that somehow – you consented.

You remembered your fear, your throat was still hoarse from your screaming (and wanton moans) and then the _drink._

_He drugged me. He drugged me and –_

A sob threatened to escape from your mouth but you swallowed it, not trusting yourself to not break.

The man turned away from your face and you risked a glance and saw…his eyes closed as his hand moved up to his chest. The skeleton paint had been rubbed off, except around those strange eyes. He looked peaceful, almost content.

You have to get away.

Gingerly, you edged from him, slowly and ready to stop whenever he frowned or stopped snoring. It felt like an eternity, but you think it was probably only minutes. Soon you managed to land quietly onto the floor. The man still dozed away but you quickly scanned around. Your clothes were wrecked, nothing remained but you saw a black robe draped on a chair you didn’t notice before. And just beneath it was your phone. You don’t question providence at this point; you snatched the robe and your phone before grasping the door knob.

You stop once again, turning back towards the other occupant of the room. His snores grew louder and you realized you’re going to time it right.

He took a deep breath and snored, loudly and you turned the knob. You were fortunate, once more than the man’s snoring was louder that the metal crick the knob made. You waited a few more times – your palms getting steadily sweatier with each turn - before finally you managed to slip out and quietly shut the door again.

You let out a heavy breathe you didn’t even know you had kept in and as you place your hands on your chest, you could practically feel your heart vibrate inside your ribcage. Your hands shook even as your muscles burned and ached. But you moved.

You had too.

The passage way was still as dim as yesterday, the torchlight casting an eerie glow against the walls and other cells. Despite the poor lighting, the passageway was thankfully quite straightforward. Part of you was still baffled by the fact that you ended up inside one in the first place. You were quite certain that you had been lost in the forest and the tour guide never mentioned an abandoned castle or whatever this place was.

Your checked your phone – as usual no signal. You sighed and switched it off, wishing to conserve energy. You pressed on, checking your back once in a while.

Whoever he was, he did not follow you and as you moved further and further away from the door, you felt lighter. Not better – because if you ever find your way back (and you have too) the first thing you’re going to do is call the cops AND book yourself therapy. You’re not stupid; you may feel fine (sort of) now but you know you’re just barely holding on. You took one step at time. Breathe and move.

The cells soon melted into walls and then cells again. You wondered who the fuck builds a torture chamber these day and age, well in this era. Though your nose had become numb, the scent of blood occasionally hits you. You’re thanking your stars you have yet to vomit and that the dimness hid away what you hoped was the main source of the scent. You kept your eyes forward, except the lightning quick glances you made to your rear. You know something was in the cells and judging from the silence, you don’t want to know what they were.

Horror movies don’t happen to women like you.

You can hear fate chuckling at this but it’s true; shit like that happens only in movies.

It’s not real and this is some sick twisted asshole’s lair and you’re gonna escape -

**_SLAM_ **

Stars explode in your vision. You gasp, knees buckling when someone – _fuck fuck fuck fuck not him how how how_ – pins you onto the floor. You hiss, face crushed onto the stone floor and you felt your hands being pulled and tied behind you.

 _“Found you…”_ someone crooned, deep and throaty.

_Fuck_

You screamed, your legs kick uselessly because you just escape and oh god oh god oh god. The man chuckled, pausing to pat you on your head.

“God doesn’t exist here, little one. Only the devil.”

The words escaped your mouth before you could stop it, "What?"

His eyes burned into yours as he lets out a deep throaty laugh, "My dear, there's no God here, only Satan and we are his followers."

Your brain stuttered when the realization hits.

_OF FUCKING COURSE YOU’RE KIDNAPPED BY DEVIL WORSHIPPERS_

You cursed and swore but he merely clucked before moving to stand up. Frantically, you tried to run but in one quick move your world upends and you find yourself swung over his shoulders. Your mind tried not to think at just how fucking close you are to this man’s buck naked ass. You struggled and screamed to let you go and put your down you fucking asshole – this not right and how dare you and please, _please_ let me _GO_ , I swear to you I won’t tell anyone just don’t do this, _please_.

The man proceeded to laugh and your body shook as it trembled. Which was a mistake because suddenly you recognize that this asshole was naked and you?

You have teeth.

Your kidnapper howled in fury as your teeth sank into his flesh (not his ass of course). Blood seeped into your mouth but you bored deeper. His grip on you slackened and you fall to the floor with a thump. You don’t wait and swung your feet to kick his shins.

You heard a bone crack.

Your ankle shattered.

Agony shot up your body as you cried, your body curled up as your bound hands tried hard to reach for your broken appendage.

“Fool.” You hear him mutter and you snarl, glaring and…

…it wasn’t him.

The man in front of you wore the same skull painting but even with that you recognized that this one was not the same. For one thing the painting was flawless, more skull-like and his eyes. They were colder, crueler and he had no hair on his head - just a dark inked skin covering his scalp.

“-wh-“

Then, he knelt and leaned close to your face and you tried to push yourself away, hoping the wall would melt when he grasped your hair and bent into the crook of your neck. You winced from the contact when he growled and took a deep breath.

Your mind halted as his tongue slides out and traced the pulse there and then he pulled back, his eyes rolled back in pleasure.

“You…smell of my brother.” He uttered. His other hand traced your cheek, down your neck, sternum and chest before pausing right above your stomach.

The hand lay there, kneading, contemplative.

“No matter, mine shall be the seed that takes.”

Your stomach twisted at the lust lacing his words and you start crying again.

“N-no, please don’t –” you begged, snot running down your face. His hand trails up to you, his eyes, green and white hardened.

“You don’t have a choice.”

You wanted to scream – but his voice, the tone of finality silenced you.

You had tried fighting, you had tried flight and now? You could only freeze.

* * *

The man took you up bridal style, muttering obscenities into your ear. You went inside yourself this time. Only the ache in your ankle – your failure to escape throbbed defiantly.

Eventually he reached a door and kicked it open.

Some part of you wondered if he took you back to his brother – but instead of your first attacker you noticed a nearly naked woman and man sitting up on the floor, looking as disheveled as you were.

More victims?

You don’t get to wonder as he tosses you onto the bed, before slamming the door shut. You don’t think and went inside again – you don’t want to think – this couldn’t happen again – weak weak weak _pathetic_.

“Papa? She’s not a mem-” you hear someone speak. Soft, demure.

“Shut up.”

“Papa, she’s not a sibling.” A woman, hard, worried…?

“I said shut up.”

He crawled on top of you, eyes blown eyes, lusty and eager. He doesn’t even try to drug you, spreading your legs when suddenly he snarled again.

“Papa – stop!” you hear something snap and someone howling.

“PAPA, WHAT THE FUCK?”

“Fuck, he broke my fingers!” the man cried – soft, demure? Scared?

“I will fuck whomever I please.” He growled.

“NO – that’s enough, let that woman go – HURK!”

One moment he was on top of you and the next, something slammed him straight off the side of bed.

“ _Third???”_

“By Belial!” you hear someone roar and sounds of fist and flesh danced in your ear. Italian – at least you think it’s Italian - flew free and hard when someone, the woman carefully pulls you up. You whined, pulling back.

If you’re still they won’t see you.

“Hey, please follow us. We won’t hurt you.” She said softly. She had really nice brown eyes you think.

“Fff – her ankle-”

“Right.”

Once more you’re lifted up and carried bridal style. You blinked when you realized it was the woman who was lifting you. 

_Must have eaten loads of vegetables._

You detached yourself. You could still hear the screaming and howling but they got further and further away.

“Fuck it- hurts,” the man groaned – oh right crazy satanic dude broke his fingers.

“Not too far now.” The woman replied.

“Oh fuck, we’re near the First’s chambers. Maybe we can ask him for help?”

The woman's fingers dug into your flesh, “Don’t even fucking _go there_. I can’t handle him.”

“The First? But he’s like, _ancient_.”

“Still the First and there’s a good reason why.”

“How did you get here?”

It took you a while to notice he was talking to you.

“Questions later.” The woman snapped and you think you like her.

Trees.

Suddenly it’s trees.

You were back in the forest but you kept blinking thinking it would fade again.

“There’s the opening!”

Then you felt it – something heavy, wrong, slithered of your skin and it was like you could _breathe_ again. The woman halted and gently sat you down on a rock. The man, you can see him now, slight, red haired and gaunt (but thankfully wearing boxers), slipped next to you clutching his right hand, it’s fingers bent oddly.

Your carrier and you looked at her took and you realized just how _tall_ she was. She was only clad in what looked like a nun’s cowl and nothing else. Her face looked like a strange mix of childish but stern and muscles rippled from her arm as she held up a strange shell like object and then pressed it against her mouth.

A high-pitched sound reverberated around you and then…the leaves moved.

Your brain, though numb felt the stabs of panic. Suddenly a hand gently touched yours and you snatched it back.

The man didn’t wince, smiling nervously at your reaction, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just the ghouls…”

You don’t answer, you brain decided it just can’t at the moment.

The leaves danced and you swore you saw silver faces grinning between them.

“Bishop Lilith here; we have a breach.”

Something crooned and whistled their tone alarmed. Lilith frowned and glared back.

“Yes, we need this place barred down. NOW!”

The wind blew strongly around them as leaves swayed and twirled back to what looked like a large stone archway. You held your breath when the archway began to crack and crumble and as you blinked it vanished.

Silence blanketed you once more and for a moment the three of you could only just stare at where the archway had been. Then, sighing loudly, the woman moved and knelt in front of you.

You can see (and feel) her hand brushing yours, tentatively. You didn’t flinched like you did her companion and she took it was fine to cover your palm with hers. It was warm and nice.

Just like her eyes.

She gave you a soft and gentle smile, “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

You think of what you just saw and what had happened and you started to shake.

Lilith looked at you concernedly, “Hey, it’s okay. I know a lot has happened and you’re scared but that’s okay.”

The man beside you moved beside her, his eyes too were kind.

“Yeah, they’re locked up for now. They can’t reach you here.” He said.

“What Gabriel say it’s true but it’s best we take you back to the church.” She uttered, standing up.

“We’ll explain everything there.”

 


	3. Biblical Babies?

You were swaddled with cloth and tucked into a nice clean bed.

You weren’t sure how you got there. One moment you were staring at the trees, head swimming and body aching and then next thing you knew, you were in a brightly lit hospital room and a doctor hovered above your face, her expression kind.

“Ah, she wakes.” The doctor noted, smiling kindly. You blinked, disoriented.

“I’m Doctor Jane and you Miss…?”

“…” you kept mum. She may look kindly, you think, but you had just gone through what you theorize was one hell of a major drug trip and frankly your mouth feels and tasted like shit.

Yes, you nod slowly, you had been drugged. The whole dungeon, the – (you shudder) – had been a weird fucking drug trip. You got lost – ate some stuff you weren’t supposed to (even though there are no memories of this) – and spent the whole night tripping out of your fucking mind about fucking a demon and magical doorways and Satanism.

Drugged.

And once you have your bearings you swear never again to take trips to the forests. Ever. City mouse from now one and ow fucking hell – what the fuck did you _take_?

The doctor, Jane, quickly handed you a nice glass of water and you gulped it down like it is ambrosia. As soon as you finished, the doctor filled it up again and isn’t socialized medicine nice? Everything feels nice, logical and scientific.

Then, the curtain drawn around your bed pulled back.

And your world up-ends.

“Oh, she wakes, finally – I –”

The woman stood there, tall but strangely small, her body clothed in a nun-habits best suited for stripping and beside her, the quite demure young man, clad in priest’s cloth.

You started screaming.

You are aware of hands and something sharp stabbing your arm but your mind refused.

Point. Blank.

You were drugged.

It never happened.

**_It never happened._ **

Then darkness.

* * *

You were swaddled with cloth and tucked into a nice clean bed.

This time they had tied your arms to the bed side.

The doctor still looked upon you kindly.

You spat at her face and howled.

Jane jabbed you again.

* * *

You woke to swaddled cloth, bound wrists and a mouth gag.

The doctor’s kindly expression was starting to piss you off but the wariness brings a perverse comfort inside you. The woman gave the other inhabitant of the room a nod before disappearing behind the curtains that seem to encircle you each awakening.

You delusion – the Bishop, the Lilith sat in a chair beside you, in her hand a thick tome.

“Firstly, you’re not insane.” The woman who was borne of your insanity started.

Not for the first time you wished that looks could kill.

“My name is Bishop Lilith and you are in the First Church of Satan.”

What. Why does her delusion persist in this whole Satanic Church? You weren’t even Christian.

“I’d like to apologize for what happened. Someone had been remiss with our wards and you slipped into the sacred grounds. We believe you may have encountered…members of our flock during their Mating Season.”

You remember the hands, the way the creature tasted and how he moved inside you. Your body shuddered and you bite down your bile.

It didn’t happen.

_It didn’t._

Despite the gag a whine escaped you and a look of deep concern and sympathy crossed the woman’s face.

“We’re so sorry.”

Why are you sorry, silly delusion? It didn’t happen.

You tried to say it, willing her and everything to go away and this drug would be flushed out of your system already because you just want to sleep or drown yourself in a tub until you feel clean.

The mirage’s face twisted further as if in half-horror and half-pity.

“You think this isn’t real…”

Oh, good, she finally gets it. Okay subconscious, time to erase this.

Gotta get better.

Gotta detox and gotta get better.

“…fuck, they did not teach me this.” She murmured, scowling deeply.

Of course they don’t and of course my brain could only dream of something so half-baked. Silly.

“Right. Look, this is real. Very real.” She continued, reaching out to touch your arm. You flinched but the bindings were tight. Her fingers brushed the tiny exposed flesh and it was warm.

Why was it warm?

“I know this may sound like some sort of fairy tale but you’re not dreaming. You may have been drugged with Succubus Essence but what happened to you – real. This place – real. And Satan – very, extremely 100%, real.”

Don’t be stupid – no they don’t. Also, if illusion lady doesn’t stop frowning she’s gonna get some very deep wrinkles in her forehead.

“I know it’s tempting to ignore, to think it isn’t. And believe me, I empathize _but_ the matter of fact is Emeritus the Third had impregnated you and it would be –”

You didn’t hear the rest.

Impregnated.

Something in your brain unlocked. Like the word was but a key to that part of you – that raging fury that you smothered by the calls of drugged and delusions.

_Impregnated._

_You were pinned down and you could taste him; his lips upon yours, his chest against your own, your hearts beating in unison as your bodies joined. That feeling, moving, thrusting, deep – never stopping even as your body gave way to exhaustion, pleasure and pain as you both made…_

_…made…_

_Life._

The bindings broke and you hear the woman startle. You didn’t stop even as you swung and she fell onto the floor like a sack of potatoes. The doctor swung the curtains, alarmed, but you were faster and pushed her aside as you bolted.

You are aware of someone crying out your name, of something shadowy and silver tailing you but you were faster.

In your dreams – and these were dreams – you had always been faster and you flew.

Nuns and priests stepped out of your way, crying out as you dashed and zig-zagged. The shadows trailed after you crying out –

_Stop. Please stop. You are safe here._

Pleasant lies but lies still.

You took wherever your feet took you and if you had only stopped and scanned you would have seen the exits, the escape routes but you didn’t.

Like so many things in your life, should and could but you didn’t.

You saw the large wooden doors and pushed them open.

The glass window was the first thing you saw. A being, of such beauty stared down upon you, his feathers torn and blacked, scattered around its feet. Flames encircled him and his face was solemn as his eyes, one green and one white gazed down on all, at once arrogant and sad.

_He is…_

_The shining and the light…_

You could not have dreamt of such aching perfection and your mind clicked again.

They found you weeping on the floor as reality came crashing down. This time the woman, the bishop, the Lilith, took your hand and you sat down and listened.

* * *

Long ago, an angel fell from the heavens. Barred and doomed to hell, it sought to sow discord and chaos upon the same creature that he saw as the cause of his doom.

For years he lied, whispered and misled and from this there was joy.

But for all his lies and chaos, he soon realized it was nothing compared to joy and love his creator brought upon the very creation He so blessed.

Satan saw that God gave mankind free will but condemned them harshly if they did not obey as a slave should to a master.

He saw God sacrifice his own son, condemned another for a fate He had written and so Lucifer saw…

He saw and wept.

Mankind, he realized was given a gift and was cursed by it and so, Satan ceased to lie; to sow discord and watched.

Centuries past as he observed mankind continued to push and pull, unknowing that no matter how hard they exercised their freewill, their fates were sealed from even before they drew breathe.

Lo, then one day, he turned and he sought, Lilith, the first woman – the one who refused and was doomed to wander alone until the world was unmade once more.

She saw, too, but raged.

To her, women were seen to forever to obey, unequal and doomed for it. Even though they are as smart, wise and strong, her sister’s curse, the Curse of Eve marked the daughters strongly.

So she too sought the Morning Star and from Satan, she wished for a bloodline, strong and unbound by both Eve’s Curse and the Curse of Men’s Freewill.

“A daughter,” Lilith declared as the Morning Star turned into her female form. “No, son shall come from my womb, but a daughter, Eve’s Liberator and Adam’s Bane.”

And so, despite being of two women, Lilith’s womb soon took seed and grew.

The first woman declared with joy that hers will be the first of many who would be Adam’s bane.

But God, who saw All, cursed the union and so the firstborn of Lilith, though perfection made flesh was born a boy.

Lilith swore and raged, for she saw not a child but a humiliation. In her fury, she tore out the boy’s left eye, cursing him. The Morning Star gave his son his own eye to replace it and took the child and hid him from the first woman.

Satan gave his son Ghouls to protect him, for even though Lilith abhorred her firstborn, the Morning Star still sought reconciliation - hoping the next would be the woman Lilith oh so craved. But no matter how many times they tried all of their bloodline bore only males. After the seventh son - Lilith cursed Satan and fled him and their children. Yet, the Morning Star cherished his sons and watched over them, imbuing them with what he called the Seven Virtuous Sins, spreading the words of freedom and love. Asking to only acknowledge their humanity and all the wonders of it. 

Soon, however, Satan too must left his children but with kindness and with his love. 

From there the Sons of Lucifer spread far and wide, some seeking their mother, others spread their father's faith. They faced persecution and hatred wherever they went for the Followers of God were many and to them Lucifer's sons were an abomination to be wiped from the world. 

Many were hunted and murdered, their names struck from history as their souls return to their father...all but one: The Emeritus line, the descendants of the firstborn of Satan and Lilith. 

Led by their leader, the Emeritus sought refuge from one country to another, keeping their faith a secret to all but their most faithful. Soon they found home in Sweden, during an era where God's hold weakened as His law was challenged and scrutinized on a level never seen before. So they stayed, glad to found a home. And the Emeritus thrived and grew and yet they had one more curse - or a blessing of sorts.

For even though their bloodline had mingled with humans for many centuries, one of the few demonic traits remained and one of them was The Heat. When the stars aligned just  _so_ , the Emeritus sons would be driven with burning lust - the need to breed so strong, they could think of nothing else. So dangerous this was that every time it happened, they would be sealed away with only a select few as their companion - chosen for strength and stamina - and powerful wards spread all over to prevent victims. They were triple-checked and were so thorough that nobody has been able to break past it (as some disappointed Siblings had found out).

Until recently, until  _you._

And hence…this.

You blinked because – holy fuck – what the fuck? Amirite?

“This is a bit too much for me to take.” You finally said.

Lilith, but not the raging baby maiming bitch, nodded sympathetically. “Most people do. The general consensus outside is that God good, Satan bad. But the truth is far more complex.”

“…I can see that. But...Lilith and Satan having kids and...this?" you said, waving your hand at... _this._

“Yes. All real."

You felt your blood freeze because you had spent years as an atheist and yet there's a Satanist calmly telling you, that yup, God's real and so is Satan but don't worry, he's a nice dude.

"-and you're pregnant! It's been decades and we were starting to worry if the bloodline will die with Papa Emeritus III but this is amazing! Even Imperator looked like she was going to have kittens!"

Oh, great, another name…“The who now?” you asked tiredly. Lilith hummed, tapping her chin.

“If Papa’s the leader, Sister Imperator’s like the second-in-command. She may look scary but she’s nice…deep…deep…down.”

Wow – that sounded so…discomforting.

“Yeah. But she’s nice, really and she, I mean, all of us are excited that you’re pregnant and all. We all thought that after the Second’s…” and here she froze and you get a distinct feeling she was treading on dangerous memories now.

“I mean, this is amazing news!” she exclaimed and gosh she looked so fucking happy and sincere. Like the whole business of being tricked and drugged was a divine (or infernal) intervention. You think about what had happened, the fear and trauma and somehow, _somehow_ , these people think that it's a very happy, miraculous incident. The Bishop (it's so weird for you to call this woman that) kept staring at you, as though she could not believe it herself. 

So you spoke - heedless of that other voice of yours telling you to  _shut the fuck up._

“Well, hurray, Satan is real and apparently heat is a thing but what makes you think I’m keeping it?”

 

 


	4. The Red Cardinal

It had been one of your greatest dreams, once, to be able to just lie in bed and bask in the embrace of being a lazy, sleepy, sloth.

Right now it felt like your dreams were answered. You’re in a ridiculously luxurious room, you’re lying in a comfortable as fuck bed, covered by silky sheets and the room temperature was just _right._ You have a fucking power-shower and a Jacuzzi with really nice shampoos and soap. Delicious home cooked food’s delivered to your bedroom on the dot and the walls are lined with various books of many subjects for you to peruse.

They even brought you a gaming console once they found you building a miniature castle of the books. No online connectivity of course. You know they have wifi but being devil worshippers they didn’t grace you with the password. There’s a blu-ray player and someone even snuck in a treadmill because… _’exercise is good for you’._

Around dinner, Lilith or God forbid, Imperator would come and try to do the whole song and dance of ain’t Satan great and you’re just so blessed and fortunate and fuck you were just _tired._

You stared once more at the bed’s ornately carved cover of the four poster bed. Of course it showed Satan, surrounded by his worshippers. You had to admit whoever carved it was very good, but still.

You wanted to go home.

You don’t want to be part of whatever cluster fuck that had occurred. Baby or not, you had been hoodwinked and frankly, you just want to leave, abort the baby and pretend this whole nonsense never happened.

Then you found out that you’re carrying a demonic (quarter) baby and it’s apparently so fucking rare and they weren’t willing to let you go and abort it because ‘the bloodline had no children in them for decades, so, sorry but we can’t let you go’.

Granted you shouldn’t have screamed and shouted that you didn’t want the fucking baby and fuck your bloodline but you just went through a very traumatic event.

Anyone who thinks you’re just being dramatic can go suck devil dick.

…which you think Imperator had but anyway that was the only metaphor you could think off.

You curled yourself up, wondering if watching Tangled would be a bit too on the nose for your situation when you hear a soft, tentative knock.

Lifting your head, you saw the clock showing its 3pm and frowned.

Usually dinner’s around 6pm and the ghoul in charge of lunch had already taken away your tray.

Maybe you misheard?

But nope, there it was again, soft but clearly a knock. You sat up in your bed.

“Miss {y/n}?”

It was a masculine voice but not of any ghouls you recognized. You continued to stare and kept quiet. It seemed as if whoever it was had left when you hear him cough.

“I’m sorry but I’m going to have to come in. Excuse me.” The door swings open before you could lay down and pretend you were asleep and in came a man dressed in all red.

It was mean of you but when you first saw his face, you thought – Jesus fucking Christ did they send you a child molester? He wasn’t very tall and was rather pale – though you could see freckles all over his cheeks – he had some serious side-burns and a thin pencil moustache. But what really caught your eyes were…well, his eyes. He looked as though he saw a magazine about Goth makeup and went overboard, the black eye-shadows circled so thickly, the more you stared at him, the more you’re reminded of a panda.

But it was that white eye.

The same green and white eye that haunts your dreams and made you lay awake at night.

You could not help but tremble where you were. Blissfully ignorant, you saw the man give you a deep bow before standing up, positively beaming.

“Hello, my name is Cardinal Copia.” He said. “I am, ah, as you know a Cardinal.”

 _No, really? Gee willickers ain’t that sweet, a Cardinal visiting li ol’ me?_ You bit down the sarcastic response. You learned very, very quickly not to lose your temper around these people. Except Lilith who seem to treat you like you’re either super fragile and was willing to swallow whatever snark you throw her way. Imperator and the Ghouls had made it clear they were doing this because they wanted this whole pregnancy to be comfortable for you – healthy, happy mother, healthy, happy baby – but hinted drugging you up until it’s time for the birth would be fine too.

You weren’t dumb and so you learn to be chillingly polite.

Or at least stop threatening to induce a miscarriage; among other things.

“Uh, hello?” the red invader asked again. He looked worried as you remained quiet, lost in your thoughts.

“Yes?” you queried. He beamed again and placed his hands behind his back, rocking on his feet and you’re greatly reminded of…a dork.

“Oh, good, I thought, that you – er – never mind. How are you feeling, Miss {y/n}?” he asked, flustered.

A big dork.

You sighed, willing yourself to be civil, “I am as always, fine.”

“That’s excellent, no? The day is lovely outside.” Then as if realizing what he had said, he gasped and started to flush, “I mean, I know you’re not allowed – but – it’s just – nice and I th- thought – maybe – you, erm, I –”

A _gigantic_ dork.

“It’s fine, Cardinal.” You brushed it aside, “Though I am curious as to why you’re here.”

The Cardinal collected himself, though his cheeks were still flushed, “Oh, I’m here to inform you that – ah, Sister Imperator and Sister Lilith is unavailable for this evening or for the rest of the week for that matter. So I’ll be here in their stead.”

You stared at this Cardinal. He beamed again and you wondered if his cheeks hurt because if you had to smile that widely and that dorkily, your face would hurt. Still, your heckles’ were raised. This man, despite his air of affability was still part of the Church and he was the only person you knew, so far, to have that weird white eye.

“Are you one of the Emeritus brothers?” you asked, because if this Cardinal was their sibling then at least you could adjust your reactions better. The man’s eyes went round and he shook his head fervently.

“Ah, no, I’m not, no. NO. I just had the eye via ritual. They were born to it, part of the bloodline and etcetera.”

Silence descended on the two of you. The urge to be left alone engulfed you while the Cardinal fidgeted before, after coughing twice, he grabbed the chair near the fireplace and sat down. He steepled his fingers and gave you an expected stare. You swallowed a groan and kicked the sheets over your body before making your way to the chair opposite of him.

Another beat passes when Copia, finally decided to speak, “So, uh, how do you do?”

_Mega dork._

“Oh fine. Imprisoned, but fine.” You replied – it was sarcastic but you wanted to see his reaction. Imperator gave you a glare at your sass while Lilith was usually torn between blushing and just trying to give you a ‘mean face’. (You don’t tell her but Lilith’s mean face was too cute to be effective)

Copia gave you a sympathetic gaze and you dearly wanted to claw it off his face. What good is feeling sorry for keeping you imprisoned? Oh, we’re so sorry – I mean we know our tenets say free will and freedom blah blah blah but your case is an exception – _sorry._

The man seemed oblivious to your train of thoughts before then he spoke, “Ah, I mean, of course this is upsetting but please understand –”

You’re fucking sick of it.

“I know.” You snapped, finding pleasure as he flinched, “I **_know_** this baby is super-duper important. And I **_know_** none of you wanted to imprisoned me, I get it. If that’s all you’re going to be _Cardinal,_ then I suggest you just pick a book and read. Or leave. I want to be left alone.”

Imperator would have you drugged; Lilith would just sigh, pick a book and watch you but Copia blinked, his eyes widened with surprised and the light flickered and shone from that _white_ eye and then…

…Copia’s face _morphed._

There were no words to describe it, one moment you see the Cardinal’s concerned expression and then next it was the Third – skull faced and clad in black. You shot up to your feet and you realized that the room is so, so _small._

Slowly, his lips curled into a malevolent smile, his white eye _shone_ and your world _starts to bleed._

 _You’re back in the dark corridor – stone walls_ – _afraid – filthy – and there were arms around you_ – _someone breathing heavily and pinning you down –_

_It hurts._

_But you can’t escape._

_Hands, soft but rough and wrong and you can’t escape._

_A howl – like a wounded beast ringed around you ear and you were toppling and you just have to hide._

“Hush, piccolino. Shhh, shhh.” Someone was whispering when something _red_ and _warm_ wrapped itself around you and the world topples.

You pushed and started to cry, “Shhh, shhh…”

Then, you fade.

* * *

“Well?” woman, old and sharp asked as your brain fogged and slugged.

“The plan need not change, Sister, it’s still salvageable.”

A scoff, “I’m running out of excuses. He’s been demanding,”

“Unfortunate, the lady did not react well – I think my eye set her off.”

_White eye. White eye._

“I trust you can do this Cardinal. You have yet let me down.” Pride, affection.

“Yes, but it will take time.”

Someone moved and you feel soft hands and cloth on your face and –

 


	5. The Imperator, the Papa and the Cardinal

Sister Imperator didn’t even look up from her writing, when the doors of her office slammed open. Emeritus the Third, still bandaged from his fight with his brother, marched straight up to her, eyes blazing as he slammed his right, unbroken, palm onto her desk.

“I want to see her.” He all but screamed. The woman didn’t even flinch before staring back at him.

“No.”

It was not the answer he wanted, “You dare disobey my order?”

“And my answer is still no.”

The man’s skin rippled as claws tore through his gloves, his voice becoming deep as he snarled, “You will let me see her! _”_

Imperator scowled, irritated at the man’s display of anger.

“And if I do, what will you do Terzo?” the man opened his mouth but Imperator silenced him with a glare.

“The woman had to be sedated six times the first week alone. She had threatened to induce a miscarriage and demanded the child be aborted. She thinks what happened was rape, she does not care it was due to your demonic blood you _had_ to fuck her or that you used the Succubus Essence to extract consent. She does not want to see you. She does not _need_ to see you.”

Terzo’s skin, pale and strange without his makeup, flushed red but Imperator could see the distress on him, the way his fingers clench and unclenched as he breathed deeply before he crumpled into the chair, face twisted with agony.

“I – I just want to see –”

In a way she understood; all of the Emeritus brothers had long since given up on siring a child. Ever since the Second lost his, it was like the bloodline was cursed. No matter how many women they bedded, no matter the fertility rituals, none of the boys had managed to impregnate anyone for the past forty years.

Oh, there had been a few who declared they bore an Emeritus child but they were soon proven to be liars. Nobody could fake the bloodline. She recalled countless women screaming that the child was of the bloodline only to be proven false when the ghouls and recently, DNA tests, declared that the baby was someone else’s. Few went away, abashed by their mistakes but the ones who kept insisting…well…there’s a reason why the elder brothers were feared.

Then a few weeks ago, a slip of a girl managed to bypass their security and fell into Papa the Third’s trap. Imperator had the fools who screwed up the wards whipped and demoted. The only reason why they weren’t ghoul feed was because somehow – this woman, this _outsider –_ became pregnant.

_The ghouls surround the comatose form of the intruder. They crooned and chirped and sang as their hands hovered reverently over her body but especially above her womb._ _Imperator had not seen such scene in decades but she will never forget the song –_ the Hymn of The Bloodline; the sign of _life._

Nihil and the brothers rejoiced. Terzo, despite being bed bound and injured, was beyond ecstatic. Finally, Nihil declared, the bloodline is saved. Whoever and however, could wait. Imperator was preparing the paperwork and ritual celebrations and everyone waited for her to finally awaken so that they could celebrate.

Then the woman woke up and all plans of it being amicable went out the window.

The woman, it turned out, did _not_ consent at all – the Third did not even bother to seduce her, opting to bypass her refusal with drugs. Worse, Imperator learned from the Bishop that the Second tried to force himself upon her. It was only because the Third intervened and fought that they managed to escape. Unfortunately, for the youngest Emeritus brother, while he may be more agile and under demonic heat, his elder brother was still the strongest. It took five ghouls to stop the Second from murdering his younger brother and even that was a close thing.

“I did not mean to drug her.” The man said quietly, like a child trying to make excuses for his mistakes. His head hung low and Imperator could see him chewing his lips – a childish habit of his whenever he realized he had fucked up.

“It doesn’t matter. It took her a week to calm down and if she sees you, all our work will be undone.” She stated. And it was true. The woman was filled with salt and vinegar, spitting insults and glowering at everyone who deigned to stare her way. Understandable, admirable even, but Imperator did not reach to where she was by tolerating such nonsense. Oh, the woman learned quickly to bite her tongue, but she would still have to be monitored.

“Is…is she healthy – is she okay?” he inquired, eyes wide.

“She’s under stress. We have given her one of luxury suite but she resents being imprisoned.”

“Who doesn’t?” the Third mused, rubbing one of the scars his brother gave him. At least the youngest Emeritus seemed to care – the Second was all for the girl to be sedated throughout the pregnancy. It was only because the Doctor Jane refused citing that such method could harm both mother and child in the long run was why the luxury suite was set up. The girl was fortunate that Nihil and even the First insisted on the kind imprisonment. If Imperator had her way, she would have had the girl forced into a coma.

It took Imperator (and the Bishop) some time but they had managed to tone down the girl’s anger to a childish sulkiness; irritable but much more manageable. They were fortunate she was one of those introverts who could deal with being alone for a long time and had yet to try to escape her confinement.

“I – I know I screwed up. And I know she’s…angry. But if I could see her, talk to her maybe I could…” the Third start but his words die upon seeing Imperator’s expression.

“Giuseppe,” she said, using his real name, “You and I know nothing good will come of that. I suggest you leave her alone.”

“But-”

“If you want this child to live and if you want this woman to have a chance to heal – you will leave her alone. That’s all I have to say about this matter. I suggest you rest and heal. Leave this to us.”

* * *

You woke up feeling heavy and empty; the usual sign that you had to be sedated. You whine from the sensation as you try to move, when a pair of strong arms lifts you gently into a sitting position. Woozy, you mumble a thank you when the world sharpened and you see red and white and…

“…why are you wearing an eyepatch?” you blurted as Copia blinked at your question.

The Cardinal was also wearing a red and white striped t-shirt and jeans ensemble which looked _odd_ on him but it was nothing compared to the eyepatch covering his left – _white_ – eye.

“Ah, you see, you had a strong reaction to my eye, so I thought since I have to see you this week I ought to wear and eyepatch. Cover it up.” He waved, beaming. “Eh, depth perception is a thing too but I don’t want another repeated incident.”

He rocked on his feet, hands behind his back as he gave you a once over. It was rather sweet – which you find odd that you do find this dork of a man sweet since your reaction to everyone else seemed to be off contempt. A thought occurred to you.

“Why not just wear dark sunglasses? Or coloured contacts? Then you don’t have to sacrifice your depth perception.”

There was a beat and by the expression on Copia’s face, you had an inkling it never occurred to him.

“I…uh…actually that makes more sense.”

You laughed; you couldn’t help it and…

…you realized it was a sincere. It was absurd, this moustached man and his panda eyes flushing as he looked to his feet, embarrassed. And yet…you’re not angry at him. There’s an aura of dorkishness surrounding his being that you just couldn’t not laugh.

You started to get dizzy however, the side-effects causing your head to drop as you land back onto the pillows. Copia began fussing about you but you waved him off.

“I’m okay – s’groggy.” You mumbled, your eyes feeling heavy. It was odd feeling tired even after sleeping for so long. But you brushed it off, eventually the next time you wake up, you’d be more refreshed and…well…more blu-rays to look forward to.

“I think all this being confined is not good.” Copia said and you didn’t even bother to stop rolling your eyes.

“Well, d’uh.” It was mean but what else could you reply that with? Happiness? You frowned, irritated and suddenly Copia no longer felt welcoming. Which was why the next thing he said had you wide awake.

“So…maybe tomorrow I take you to the Gardens. Imperator’s not here and I’m sure Papa Nihil would agree.”

Your jaw dropped as you stared at this eye-patched man, his face beaming. Go outside? Imperator had refused to allow it and even the Bishop denied you request (one time you begged politely) because you were too much of a risk and yet this man…

“Fresh air is good for health, for you.” He continued, smiling kindly.

The words – for the baby – lay unsaid but you didn’t care. Outside. Going fucking outside. You hadn’t seen the outdoors for weeks and despite being an indoor person, the fact that this man, this Cardinal is giving you the chance to see the sky again.

“I – thank you – thank you!” you uttered gratefully and Copia flushed again.

“Just a treat and a sorry for accidentally triggering you.” He muttered, waving your thanks aside.

“Would the morning be okay?”

In truth you wanted to go now, but despite your elation, your body still felt weak from whatever drug you had – so you gritted your teeth and just nodded. You took the drink he gave you, eager to sleep away the heaviness in your bones.

Copia watched you slowly drifted to sleep, the grin still on your lips; softer and sweeter than the smirk slowly curling on his.


	6. Regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited to add more content as I was unhappy with how I wrote it.

Copia stayed true to his word.

The next day, you woke feeling sluggish and tired but as soon as the Cardinal came in, rolling the tray for breakfast, you bolted awake. The man was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses this time. He made a move to give you some privacy to bathe and change but you quickly tossed on a clean jacket and snatched in a piece of toast into your mouth. You swallowed the food quickly before brushing your mouth and standing ready.

The man cocked his head, amused but didn’t say anything at your eagerness.

It was pathetic, you think, being so damn excited just to see a garden – but that’s imprisonment does to a person. Part of you half wondered if he’d refuse to let you out, citing some excuse or another. But Copia, it seemed, kept his promise.

Without much ado, you made to step outside your prison…and nearly collapsed.

Copia caught you as your legs wobbled unsteadily. It was ridiculous, you thought as you tried to stand up…but a part of your body – the one that had been your only wanted companion shook at the idea that you’re out.

You’re out, but not free, it seemed to claim but it did not matter; you were out and your body…your body trembled at the fact. The Cardinal thankfully said nothing and waited patiently as you steadied yourself.

Once you were stable, you took a deep breath and started to walk. The corridor was opulence personified, with wooden panels and ornate lamps adoring its walls. There were portraits, biblical in its nature and various in its eras. You spotted a huge tapestry hung from the ceiling to floor, depicting hell and other heavenly bodies in battle for dominance of the world. There were antique sculptures, busts of what eerily resembled that man, each wearing some sort of pope hat.

If you were not a prisoner you would have been in awe with what you’re seeing; instead you could only take in the works with a not so small amount of bitterness and fear.

Part of you were curious about the objects – the nature of its inspiration and what was it they were depicting but you shoved them aside. You don’t want to hang out in this corridor for too long. Once you caught Copia opening his mouth but he closed them shut, as if understanding that you were in no mood to talk.

The corridor seemed to stretch forever, the lamps illuminating warmly for there were no windows or even doors to other rooms. A small, rebellious part of you felt angry because you had hoped to find a way to escape. However, the walls remained solid, showcasing more extravagant pieces of artwork, some even showing the outside but no windows or doors or _anything_ for you to use as an escape. You bite down the urge to weep, to bang the bricks and burn down the works but you held on, watching as Copia walked in front of you, his red dress

A delirious part of you imagine wrapping your hands around his neck or, after seeing a metal vase, grabbing it and swinging it to his skull. It was a rather violent and disturbing thought and you blamed the fact that you had been isolated for so long.

Eventually, you both reached a large steel door. You could only stare at the sheer size of it and the fact that it seemed to have a very intricate interlocking mechanism holding it together.

Fuck.

Copia however, went up and knocked loudly at what looked like a slate. You hear it being slid open and you saw something silver flashing behind it. The cardinal spoke in what sounded like Latin, before the slate shut. A beat passed and then the door clanged and whirred to life as the locks opened elegantly before you.

Fuck.

There was no way you could escape. Even if the door had a key, you doubt you could run pass whoever is guarding at the other side.

A panicked scream threatened to bubble out from you when suddenly – _there was light._

The sun nearly burned your eyes as it filtered into your vision.

You saw…

_Beauty._

Trees willowy and tall filled your eyes, surrounded by various flowers, blooming in wondrous colours. You hear birds chirping and butterflies flitted here and there, examining the petals and plants. You had visited many gardens before, had seen the familiar trees and flowers but somehow what you’re seeing right now was far more beautiful than anything you had ever seen.

You’re aware of tears running down your cheeks; you don’t bother to wipe them away. You’re having a moment and you don’t care what others may think.

“{y/n},” Copia said quietly. “Welcome to the Garden of Hell.”

* * *

Papa Emeritus the III sat morosely against the window of his room. After his talk with Imperator, he quickly bolted back to his chambers, deciding to wallow with wine from the cellars. That was…yesterday…he thinks.  

It has been two months now since…well, since the incident. He recalled waking up from a massive headache, only to find himself in the hospital bed, nursing a broken arm and nose.

The last thing he recalled before he and his brothers were locked up – was the _need_ taking over. How nothing he did would satiate the burning lust that began coursing in his veins. Unlike the Second, who had chosen two members of the clergy – his favourites and more durable – to accompany him and the First who prepared tools for his amusement; Terzo decided this time he wanted to face the heat alone.

Imperator raised an eyebrow about it, but Terzo merely brushed aside the list of names she had brought. He simply felt like this time he wanted to be alone.

It had nothing to do with Lorenzo mocking that Terzo seemed to need a veritable fuck army to survive a heat session. Nope. How absurd.

He just felt like it.

But it seemed Lucifer had other ideas.

Oh, he knew that Imperator blamed the poor Brother and Sister who fucked up the wards, but he also knew there had been an infernal intervention of sorts. The two had never made a mistake before and the First had even triple-checked that it had been air-tight. By right, the woman shouldn’t have been able to even _detect_ its presence, much less slipped by _all_ of their wards.

It had to be their Lord’s doing. Sending some poor woman into his arms…

Terzo recalled the bits of pieces of that moment – the poor woman who had screamed and begged and he… _he…_

Terzo refilled his glass and swallowed the entire content without stopping.

He had used the Succubus Essence.

He did not mean it; he just wanted her to stop screaming, to say yes and just let him…

A shiver ran up his spine.

He did not mean it. _I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry._

“She’s pregnant Giuseppe. The ghouls have confirmed it.” Imperator said happily. For a moment he forgot how she got pregnant, for a moment he wanted to believe that she had wanted it, _consented_ and that this pregnancy had been a sign that he had done _something_ right.

Then the woman woke up and he could _feel_ the anguish and horror in her screams.

The talk he had, his father’s fury and disappointment – which was nothing compared to what Lorenzo had when he was forced to confess what _he_ nearly did – but still he was made to repent. He took it gladly – although everyone understood that nobody, not even the brothers were remotely sane to consent to anything during that period.

It was only because of that, his father and Imperator did not throw them in prison. Instead the woman was forced into imprisonment and it seemed, browbeaten to keep the pregnancy.

At least that was what Omega had reported. Terzo was _not_ allowed to see her, for fear of triggering another breakdown.

But still…he wanted to apologize, to grovel on her feet because to him, consent had always been paramount…and to realised he had broken that one cardinal rule…

He made to pour himself another glass, when someone snatched it from his fingers.

Terzo snarled, about to snap when he saw Dante staring down on him.

“Brother, it’s 7am. A bit too early for a drink don’t you think?” his eldest brother chided softly.

“…don’t care.” Terzo replied, trying to reach for the bottle but Dante placed it far away on the other side of the table. Then, the older man moved and sat beside him, before placing an open palm over his forehead.

“You’re warm.” He commented, before moving down to his injured arm. “Does it still hurt?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not your fault you know.” Dante said bluntly.

Terzo raised his eyebrow, frowning, “I still assaulted the woman and made her pregnant against her will.”

“You were in heat. And the wards broke.”

“Doesn’t matter, I should have had the presence of mind to kick her out and lock myself in.”

“True but that would have been beyond any of us.” Terzo scoffed, before clenching his fists.

“It’s little consolation to her. I…I just wished we could let her go. It’s not right.”

Dante nodded at that, leaning back into the chair. “Yes, it’s not. But do we have any other choice?”

“I - just, why her? Why in this way? Any one of the clergy would have been honoured and consented. Why _her?”_  
  
Terzo watched as Dante’s eyes looked beyond him, his hands propped up his chin as he went deep in thought.

“I don’t know brother. I have prayed but our Lord has yet to answer. I’m sure this all has a reason.”

Terzo had no answer to that; he tried snatching the bottle back but Dante stared at him.

“But moping isn’t going to help her feel any better.” His brother said, hinted with admonishment. The younger man huffed with annoyance, combing his hair which had flopped over his eyes.

“And what do you suppose I do? You saw how she reacted to Copia. I wanted to apologize, I wanted to make things better but Imperator said I would distress her.”

Dante’s eyes – so alike his – darkened, “I have heard. She also wanted the woman sedated throughout. Make her sleep through this whole thing. Like she was some sort of chattel.” He growled. Terzo had heard, Imperator had insisted it would be the best but Dante and Nihil, surprisingly, veto-ed it. Lorenzo – the prick – actually agreed with Imperator – Terzo made a note to deal with _that_ later. He was appalled at what his other brother nearly did and only wished he had been strong enough to break more than just his nose. He had thought Lorenzo, of all people, should have known better.

Imperator – well, he had expected that from her. He understood her reasoning but they were supposed to be better than that. They cleaved from the Church long ago because they wanted away from that sort of bullshit.

“Have you spoken to Lorenzo?” Terzo asked and it was Dante’s turn to sneer.

“I did.” His brother smirked and despite Terzo shivered despite himself. His eldest brother held the Emeritus crown the longest between the three and for a good reason.

“Did you punch him?” He asked, eagerly. The elder man rolled his eyes, before leaning back and poured himself a glass of his wine.

“No, Giuseppe,” he said coldly as he takes a sip, “I _reminded_ him.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a filler chapter. I'm still grasping my plot threads. Thank you everyone for commentings, for bookmarking and for the kudos. I really appreciate it.


	7. Daydreams and Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, just fyi I made some major additions to the previous chapter and also edited some minor word flow here.
> 
> Son of Edit; LOOOOLLL I added some more edits, especially during P3's scenes. I seem to be making a habit or writing and then posting and then coming back and hating some parts and edit them in.
> 
> Son of Edit 2: Fixed Aether's name to Omega.

You wake up, you bathe and wait.

They serve breakfast, both you and the Ghoul ignoring each other.

You ate, you drank and you set the empty plates aside.

You wait.

Sometimes you’d read, or play a video game. Rarely, you try the treadmill; you wanted to move, escape that feeling of entrapment.

You watch the clock – tick, tick, tick – and then…

A soft knock and he’d enter. He’s wearing dark sunglasses and he smiles as he beckoned you forward, to the door.

You’d follow, down the corridor, to the large door, to the outside of green and fresh air.

Copia was becoming a mainstay. You had not seen Imperator or Lilith in weeks, the man saying that they are both busy with Church matters. You’re not upset and stopped asking after that. He doesn’t need to know that you’re glad that it’s him now who comes.

The Cardinal would always knock softly who asked politely and not once scolded or stare at you with a mixture of condescension or pity.

Copia seemed to understand that you’d be more…docile…if allowed out. Even if it’s just for a few hours – barring days when he said it was raining and thus you’d both would stay inside.

He does not preach – not like the two women – instead making small talks about the book you’d been reading or your opinion on random topics. He never asked about your family, however.

Not since…

In another time, you would have been embarrassed, horrified even but you felt as if you deserved that breakdown.

It had been nothing at first – you had woken up and started filling the tub when you spotted it.

You had always been chubby – round with rolls which you’re simultaneously proud and shamed off. So you didn’t notice it at first, but it was just a bump, not soft and squishy but hard and firm to touch.

You had seen them before – on your sisters, marvelling you at how one point they have a flat stomach before suddenly a bump; how happy they were to announce it, the bliss in their smiles and contentment as the caressed their womb with pride.

While yours was the reason why you’re stuck here, trapped in a gilded cage because someone thought your foetus was a good cause enough to imprison you.

_“The bloodline must continue. We’re sorry.”_

You don’t know how long you clawed your stomach, nails digging into your skin as your mind kept screaming: Get it _out, get it out, **GET IT OUT!**_

But the next thing you knew the Ghouls were pinning you down as you screamed to please kill it, get it out, _KILL IT, I don’t want it, let me go home – **LET ME GO!**_

They couldn’t sedate you – something about hurting the baby and they can’t have that and you swore and cursed them – you wished their entire Church would burn to the ground, you wished God had smote them and that bitch Lilith and the entire Emeritus line to fade into the void. You tried to kick, the rage burning through your veins but they held you down; whispering and hushing as they tried to calm you.

You had no idea who called Copia but as you shrieked and fought someone did and the next thing you knew, the Ghouls pulled away and you found yourself being held in a tight hug – and the scent of incense and ink and his voice murmuring comfort and you just…collapsed, anger spent.

That was the first time he spent the night with you. It was stupid, and if you’d be in the right mind you would have kicked him out, recognising what he was doing but you were sensitive and frankly he was the only person that didn’t piss you off.

He held your hand as you lay in bed, stroking the back of your palm as he talked about plants and his pet rats and small things. You remember a couple of Ghouls who’d flit in and out of your vision, silver masks hiding their expression but you’re too muddled to care. Copia was holding your hand and despite yourself you clung to it like a drowned man to a raft.

When you woke he was gone, leaving a note stating he was sorry but duty called.

When you bathed you studiously avoided the mirrors or your belly, not even when the water stings your wounds.

The ghouls serve breakfast.

You eat and you drink.

And you wait.

* * *

Terzo left the pulpit as soon as the sermon ended. He could see the Siblings eyeing him, longing and wanting, but he no longer had the mood for it. He strode out, ignoring the bows and soft cries of his name. A few clergy members were surprised by the sudden change – some comparing him to his eldest brother, Dante – who dealt with every Church business with a degree of professionalism never seen before. Many were saddened, however, as Terzo had been known as a charming prince and the trails of broken hearts were uncountable.

Omega had came to him that morning with a disturbing news; the woman had hurt herself – “A breakdown.” – and it was only when Cardinal Copia arrived were they able to calm her down. Terzo wasn’t surprised at what she had been screaming off – he heard it once with horror and revulsion that he could never forget – but what did was Copia’s ability soothe her.

He had heard from Bishop Lilith that Imperator had assigned Copia to the woman. The bishop had no idea why – but was simply told that Imperator had trusted the Cardinal and left it at that. The pope had wanted to demand an answer from the old woman – because he could think of several other – _loyal –_ candidates for that position. {Y/N} may never forgive him but the least he could do was make her life tolerable. But by the time he had mustered up his resources, Omega and Alpha came with disturbing information.

Apparently, the only person whom the woman could tolerate had been Copia. Ever since he had been assigned to her, the woman proved to be quite docile – no longer glaring or sulking – but simply ignored them. Frankly, Terzo thought it sounded worse but she seemed to be coping, until somehow this morning she broke down, screaming and clawing at her stomach.

None of the Ghouls managed to do anything to calm her down and apparently Dr. Jane had told them that any further sedation at that point would cause her and the baby harm.

If not for Copia, she would have cause further injuries and has since fallen asleep – but not before refusing to let the Cardinal go.

“Held his hand like a child would their mother,” Omega explained.

Terzo reached his office, pulled the doors open and then slammed them shut with great force. He took a deep breath before tearing his mitre of his head and tossing them across the room. He did the same for his chasuble before finally wearing nothing but his shirt and trousers.

As he did, he flipped open his laptop and entered his password. It was not long before he brought up what he was looking for.

It was been Omega who suggested it – after one too many brooding sessions as the Ghoul had called it.

“If you want to know how she’s doing, I have an idea.” It was not hard to set up a few cameras in {Y/N}’s room. Terzo had balked at the idea, finding it perverse and violating. But as soon as he saw the footage of {y/n} sitting on a couch, reading a book, his objections melted away.

He had not seen her since the incident and all the memories he had of her had been of tears and rage. Yet there she was, reading calmly, a small smile would grace her face once in a while. Terzo felt like an intruder as he watched but at the same time, a heavy weight seemed lifted of his shoulders. {Y/N} looked content as she moved about her day. True, her activities were banal – for what could a locked up woman do in such a cage – but he felt…calmed.

The man chided himself because he felt like some creepy stalker but he could not help it. He made Omega swore not to tell anyone – especially Imperator – the crone had all but said as far as she was concerned, he is but a stud and not to have anything to do with {Y/N}. At first he reasoned that it was just to ensure she wasn’t being mistreated. But as days past he realized how paper thin that excuse was.

Omega didn’t comment much except for a few knowing gazes when Terzo would rush to his rooms or eye his phone with impatience.

{Y/N} was…interesting.

He knew that she was carrying his child – the newest bloodline but he also wanted to know _her._

Whatever glimpses he saw – captivated him. How she loved reading history, how she has a nice singing voice, the way she'd laugh while playing videogames or watching a movie. Terzo had many lovers in his past and plenty of them as colourful as his language but somehow {y/n} was just if not more enticing. 

Sometimes he dreamt of being in that room with her – but it had windows and she would walk in and out, unchained. He’d dream of {y/n} would be lying on his lap. His fingers trailed down her hair while {y/n} chatted away about minor things; about the book she'd just read or some Ghoul shenanigans.

Then, suddenly, her eyes widened, lips parted as she grinned. He'd wonder why she was when she would grab his hand and then place it on her stomach. Terzo imagined he wouldn't feel it at first but then - there it was - a soft, gentle kick. Tentative just eventually persistent - as if to say: here I am. She would smile, beaming as she looked at him and said:

**_“LET ME GO – I DON’T WANT THIS THING IN ME!”_ **

The dream fades and Terzo blinked as the video played.

The man watched as {y/n} shrieked, her body struggling as the Ghouls held her down, their voices panicking as they try to calm her. Terzo watched as she cried, heedless of the blood that ran down across her (bumped) belly, the way her face twisted in agony.

He wanted to look away, to slam down the laptop (and scream - stop it, stop it, why are you doing  _this?_ ) but he kept watching. 

The Cardinal arrived as Omega had reported, his face pale, but as soon as he held her, she went limp, clinging to him as she sobbed. Copia murmured comforts as the woman cried, her body shuddered and trembled from the exertion. Terzo watched as the Cardinal – who should have been him – held on to her, his hands rubbing her back. He could see her mouth moving but it was too soft. But whatever it was, Copia nodded before helping her up to her feet. But tiredness had taken over as she stumbled back and Copia quickly swung her into his arms. The Ghouls flitted around the two of them, but the Cardinal made a motion and they stood back. Like Terzo, the Ghouls merely hovered anxiously until she was placed onto her bed. 

Terzo ignored the twinge of pain as her hand shot out and held onto Copia's. He could not hear her but from the way the other man sat down next to her and caressed her palm, he could hazard a guess. The woman clung to him as tears rolled down her cheeks and Terzo realized he simply could not look anymore. 

The Dark Pope clicked the video close and saw his face reflected back on the screen. 

He didn’t know how long he had stared at himself or how long Omega had been standing until the Ghoul lets out a soft cough.

“Your Eminence?” the creature said quietly, though his face was masked, Terzo could tell from his body that the ghoul was worried. It was unlike him to be like this and while the hell's denizen was used to tantrums and highs - having his master act so pensive felt wrong. The Dark Pope felt words drown in his throat as he stared at Omega, whose masked face could not hide how his body was speaking. Terzo could feel his worry, his wariness and his confusion. Everything had gone wrong since that day and it seem they have yet reached an equilibrium. The ghoul knew what the Papa had wanted but the woman had made it clear even the very sight of him would send her into hysterics and he wanted so desperately to fix, to apologize and help and protect the woman who would be the mother to his child. But the more he wanted to fix it, the more he is blocked in return. Worst, it seemed like Imperator and even his own father is willing for someone else to swoop in and take over when it's  _his_ child and it was  _his_ mistake in the first place. 

Terzo sighed, frowning as he caught a glimpse of his face - the face that was once a pleasure but has brought such pain. 

…wait.

_Masked._

{Y/N} would never accept Terzo – not with his face triggering her by its very existence…but….

“Omega – what is my schedule for the next few weeks?” he asked abruptly, slamming his laptop shut. Yes, that could work, he could, yes!

Wary, the ghoul blinked back at his charge – he had seen those looks before – usually preceded by an epic prank that would send even Nihil into blind rage.

“Your usual, the Dark Mass, the meetings with the Cardinals and Bishops –”

“Boring, routine shit and one you have seen me do thousands of times before. One you could say, _you_ ,” he emphasised, “Could even recite in your sleep, correct?”

Omega’s mind began to race because he hopes Papa is not implying what he thinks he’s implying.

Terzo steepled his fingers as he smirked, “Omega, how do you feel about swapping places?”

_Shit._


	8. Special is as Special Does

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed Aether's name to Omega.

Not for the first time, Omega wished this whole thing wasn’t happening.

Yet, even with his misgivings the ghoul still moved to begin the spell to change his face. His master didn’t even look up from his dressing table as he adjusted the silver mask all the Ghouls wore when summoned on Earth.

“- this is so suffocating!” Papa Emeritus III muttered as he cocked his head from side-to-side, ignoring Omega’s comment, “I don’t know how any of you suffered through this!” his voice muffled as he spoke.

“I sound like a muppet – GAH! Next time I’m ordering all these masks to have at least an opened mouth. I’m amazed any of you are understandable underneath this!” the Dark Pope continued before sighing as standing up. Blue eyes stared back through the eye holes – omega had suggested that he used coloured contacts to hide his trademark eyes. The woman had been known to get quite upset at the mismatched mark – which was why the Cardinal had taken to wearing dark sunglasses even at night time.

Omega imagined that that little tantrum would be _nothing_ compared to how she’d react if she had known the father of her child was in the same room with her.

As his charge continued to put on his suit – which Omega filched from Alpha, not that the Fire Ghoul would notice – Omega tried to think of some way, some method to stop all of this.

The plan was stupid, dangerous and will (not if, _when_ ) backfire horrifically.

And yet he could not help but notice just how _happy_ his charge was being.

Ever since the incident, a cloud of funk had followed his master. Even though he was absolved and had done the usual penance, Terzo could not stop feeling depressed and unhappy. Every time the Dark Pope tried to help or fix the mistake he made he was told, under no terms, that he was to leave it alone. It was only because Omega had a reputation for being the calm and patient ghoul that he was allowed to help monitor the woman. If not, Terzo would be shut off from her for good.

Hell, Omega even went an extra mile and set up the cameras in her room, hoping to stave the misery off but if anything it made it worse. The ghoul had to fend off upset favourites and lovers because Terzo didn’t even _want_ anyone anymore. It was like watching a puppet going through the motions and he was beginning to suspect that the man wasn’t even sleeping properly. The last time he saw his master this upset was when his mother passed away from cancer but even then he still kept his doors opened.

An alone Papa Emeritus III was unnatural.

So, as the man stood up, now donning the ghoul’s suit and mask – Omega swallowed his words. Even with his face covered, he could _feel_ the nervous but happy energy exuding from his master’s body.

“So, what do you think?” the man asked, spinning around to show his entire self to Omega.

The ghoul imagined the woman’s face – her anger, her horror – and found that he did not care as much.

As his Papa’s face melted into his – Omega grinned and gave the man a thumb’s up.

Omega had forgotten how beautiful his Papa’s happiness could be.

* * *

You weren’t sure when you stopped feeling like a zombie – maybe it was after Dr Jane visited or when, to your horror, Sister Imperator _finally_ deigned to visit you and cooed about how weak you look and how, maybe the Cardinal ought to stop your little garden visits, keep you in bed, for your health.

It took everything in you not to spit at the woman’s face.

So you forced yourself to come back, to make eye contact and actually exchange words with the Cardinal when he arrived. Sometimes you’d even laugh at his jokes. If he found it forced, he was polite enough not to mention it.

But when he was not around, you allowed yourself to dip your toes back into that miasma. Even as the ghoul came in and served you food, you lost yourself in your thoughts – letting a million ideas race about in your head. If you had been paying attention, you would notice the ghoul staring at you, the way he seemed to freeze in your presence, or how his hands would clench and unclench as he tried to control his breathing.

But you didn’t; so lost in self-pity that you neglected how his eyes were trying to capture yours.

Your hands were moving of course, cutting through your food as you attempt nourishment but you took only a few bites before you laid down the cutlery, not even stopping the sigh that escaped your lips. Your body was tired but your appetite was not keen on matching, so you began tucking them back, staring again at nowhere.

“Did you know that a pig’s orgasm can last up to about 30 minutes?”

You blinked, dragged back to reality as you (slowly) turned your head towards the person making the comment. A moment passed as your brain tried to process what you just heard.

The ghoul’s eyes widened as though he too realized what just came out from his mouth, “I mean – not _all_ pigs but the better performing ones can usually ejaculate up to half an hour.” The words continued strung along to make a sentence that you’re damn sure is not real.

“What.” It was a statement and not a question. The ghoul crossed his arms and then cocked his head with thought.

“Also, most pigs are clean animals and it’s only recently that they are pink due to selective breeding.”

All your whats, “And _why_ would you think that is a fact I needed to know?”

He shrugged, “I don’t,” he said bluntly, “But at least you’re not staring into space anymore.”

Your jaw drops, an insult at the tip of your tongue but you stopped.

Okay so Pig-Fan here is right – it was weird but somehow knowing about a pig’s orgasm seemed to have grounded you harder than anything you have heard lately. Hell, you could even _feel_ the smug smile from the ghoul.

“Wow…thanks. I’m cured.” You said monotonously – because how the fuck were you supposed to even respond to that?

As if missing your sarcasm, the ghoul perked up, “Really?”

“No!” you stated, watching his shoulder slump, “Just – why did you even say that? I can think of a million non-sexual facts that would have worked.”

“But _that_ fact had worked regardless.” He pointed out, back to crossing his arms, his head tilted upwards in defiance.

“That’s not the point!” You shot back, fork pointed at him.

“If it worked, it is the point!” He retorted.

Something angrish crawled from your lips which, to your fury, amused him further, “Your mouth is moving and I hear sounds but it doesn’t even make sense!”

The cutlery rattled as you slammed your palm on the table, “You know what? I’m done eating! You can take this and go away!” You didn’t wait for his reply, as you stood up and began walking to your bed.

“Wait!” he cried out, “Lady {y/n}, I’m s-” he started and at the beginning of that word – that word you are beginning to loathe with a thousand suns, you spun and snarled.

“ _Sorry?”_

The ghoul backed away, startled by your anger.

“Tell me, _ghoul_ ,” you infused as much rage you could into those words, “Will I be free if you apologized? Will you let me go?”

“I- I um,” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere. “It’s –”

“Then don’t apologize. I know my feelings are of so little worth to all of you.” Tiredness started to seep your bones as you sat back down on your chair. The ghoul shook his head, hands wringing as he spoke.

“That’s not true, I want – I mean Papa wanted to let you go!” he said earnestly, his eyes seemed to glow as he spoke.

You sighed, rubbing your forehead, “And yet I’m still here.”

There’s a moment when the ghoul knelt down and you watched as he tried to form the words, his hands reached out before he pulled back, knowing you would not appreciate the touch, “It’s not his fault! Sister Imperator -”

“You know, I thought this church was governed by your dearly beloved Papas, and yet I kept hearing that they are blameless and that their hands are tied and that it’s not their fault!” You cut him off. The ghoul had not response to that; his head drooped to his chest and all you saw were the silver sculptures of his mask. Not for the first time you wondered about these creatures, bound as they were to a family in servitude. You have reserved most of your anger at the Emeritus family (and Imperator) and you have treated those who served them with indifference and frankly – you don’t like it.

“I’m tired. I’m tired of being angry and sad and whatever the fuck _this_ is.” You muttered to yourself. You hate yourself for it, even though you know this whole situation was not your fault – but you despised that all you seemed to feel was this hopeless anger. And the ghouls…well…aside from making sure you don’t hurt yourself, were often polite and kept their distance. For all their duty as your guard, you cannot help to not hate them.

They are not at fault and you felt a twinge of remorse as you watch this ghoul, this…person, deflate at the face of your temper.

“Hey…” you said quietly. The ghoul lifted his head and part of you cringed inwardly as you saw how wet his eyes were becoming. You tried to force your face to stop frowning as you continued.

“I know you’re blameless Mr. Ghoul and I’m not right for being angry at you. I just – everyone keeps saying sorry but they don’t mean it and I’m… _frustrated_ with that.” You explained, hoping he would understand. Frankly, if he thought you were a bitch, you would not blame him.

Then, soft a mouse, he whispered, “It’s…okay to be frustrated.”

“I know you’re not at fault and I, well, I just want to apologize. You didn’t deserve my temper.” You added.

The ghoul – whose name you really needed to learn, shook his head, “It’s all right. I understand.”

Somehow you don’t think he does, but you’re not going to delve there.

“So…uh…are we…cool?” he asked, tentative.

You thought for a bit and decided this was not the hill you want to die on, so you allowed yourself to smile, “Yeah. We’re cool.”

Even with the mask you can see the beam on his face as he stood up and gave you a small bow. You chuckled, waving your hand.

“You don’t have to do that.” You said but the ghoul shook his head furiously.

“But you deserve it, it’s the least I can do!” he exclaimed and then, to your amusement, made a quick salute.

“By the way, what’s your name?” you asked, because calling him Mr. Ghoul felt weird.

“My name?” he asked, startled. “Uh, my name – I, yes, I have a name.”

A moment passed as you stared at each other. He blinked.

“It’s a name. A very…unique name. You could say it’s special.” He muttered, eyes darting again. You wondered if you had committed some kind of faux pas. Imperator and Copia had called them the Nameless Ghouls, but you have heard them call them by name, like Aether, Rain and Swiss.

You were about to speak when the ghoul blurted out, “My name is special.”

Somehow this does not surprise you, “Your name is Special?”

“Yes. Special. Cause I’m unique you could say.” He explained.

 “Well, it’s better than calling you Pig Ghoul.” You replied amusedly as you watched Special’s body radiate mild outrage.

“What? Seriously?”

“Hey, you’re the one who’s well-versed in pig facts.” You pointed out.

“I know more than just pig facts!”

“Sure, you do. You’re special.”

Special huffed, “Now, you’re being mean!”

“Not mean if it’s facts.”

There was no heat in both your words and some anger felt lifted of your shoulders. For a while you could feel a semblance of normalcy.

You ignore that strange alarm ringing at the back of your head.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by Elementary or that bit where Sherlock Holmes regales us with the fact that pigs can in fact have up to 30 minutes of orgasms. You go piggie.
> 
> I have gone back and changed Aether to Omega. I know it sounds stupid but I actually mixed both of them up before realizing that the Ghoul I had imagined was actually Omega.


End file.
